


Take Down the Church

by cynicalfag



Category: Sally Face (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Child Abuse, Fluff, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Porn With Plot, Religion, Smut, Suicide Attempt, it sounds really bad but it's not, let travis be happy challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2020-01-16 08:38:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18517873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cynicalfag/pseuds/cynicalfag
Summary: Larry was a Californian wildfire, and Travis was the Alaskan permafrost. Larry was the hottest day in the desert, and Travis its coldest night. Travis cooled Larry's fire. He could never put him out, but he could extinguish fifty percent or more at a time.





	Take Down the Church

**** At the ass-end of sophomore year, Sal found a note on the boy's bathroom floor, accompanied by a crying Travis. Travis  _ fucking _ Phelps, the school bully was crying in the bathroom. Honestly, at first, Sal wanted to make fun of him. Like really bad. But, he realized that if Mr. Tough-Guy was crying he probably really did have some serious shit going down at home.

Sal had taken a picture of the note with his phone, and it read:

" _ I know we don't really know each other and you probably have your opinions of me. I thought maybe if I told you how I feel, things could be different. _

_ The truth is, I can't stop thinking about you. I'm crazy about you. I think you're amazing! But I know these feelings are wrong. It's not the way a boy should feel. Shame swallows me whole. My father would kill me but I can't live in his shadow forever I just.... _ "

Sal, perhaps being a little cocky, was sure that the note was for him. Just sure of it, 100% positive. So, when he asked Travis about it and he adamantly denied it, he figured it was just his internalized homophobia getting the best of him. Though, he failed to realize the lack of homophobic undertones in his denials. Travis was being truthful.

Sal also failed to really internalize and understand the note's content; that the note specifically stated that Travis and the other guy 'don't really know each other' and that 'you [other boy] probably have your opinions of me.' Sal did not fit that description; during freshman year, Sal and Travis were known acquaintances, almost friends, even. The only person that was a guy, and from Sal's friend group, that didn't really know Travis was Larry. And boy did he have his opinions.

Travis was head over heels for the punk, and it scared him. He could swear it was love at first sight. Travis prayed, Lord, did he pray. Every night since he was twelve years old he prayed. His father, several other members of the church, and many online resources told him that if he loved God enough, praised him enough, and prayed hard enough, that his struggle with 'same sex attraction' (as they referred to it) would leave him. Nearly five years later and his supposed SSA wouldn't leave him, and it destroyed him, every fucking part of him.

Travis even contemplated suicide, if God couldn't love him, how could he love him? How could anyone love him? Right around when he turned thirteen, even Travis' father slowly but surely started to turn his back on his son.  _ If neither God nor his own father could love him, who could? Who should? _ Not Travis, Travis was not the one who loved himself. He recognized that he was a burden on his father, on the church, and he  _ repeatedly _ tried to free them from the burden that was him. It never worked. It just left him with scars and stomach aches that would last for a week or more.

Sal did realize, however, that Travis' father was, at the very least, complicit in terms of the bruises Travis always sported, as he was not stopping whoever was hitting the boy. Which lead many to speculate that it was his father who was blacking his eyes, busting his lips, and making his ribs sensitive to the touch. Those people were very correct.

Larry did not like Travis. Well, Larry did not think he liked Travis. He was an asshole, he was, there was no denying it. But, Larry was raised right, and seeing Travis walk around with bruises and acting tough, but flinching whenever someone raised their voice at him, he wanted to help him. Nobody deserves to be treated like that, no matter how much of an asshole you are. Larry saw Travis' father at the grocery store once, and he was a beast of a man, well over six feet tall, well over two-hundred pounds, clearly 'people watching' and playing judgement day is his big stupid head. Larry did not like Mr. Phelps, and he could clearly see that he was the one who was antagonizing Travis -- his knuckles were even bloody, for fucks sake!

Travis tried to pull himself out of his, albeit results from his own internalization, but nonetheless homophobic, habits. But, this particular week, he found himself letting those horrible words slip, often. So, when Larry left a note in his locker telling him to meet him on the roof, he was sure that he was going to be thrown off. Or pushed off. Or something. He was positive that Larry Johnson, the man of his dreams, was going to fucking kill him. He still went up there though, partially because he'd do anything for Larry, partially because he'd been a tad more suicidal that day, and partially because he was scared of the consequences of him not going up there.

He made his way up the stairs to the second floor of the school, and then up the stairs that led to the roof. A sign in Larry's handwriting that said 'it gets stuck sometimes just turn the knob a couple times' was taped to the door to the roof, the lock on which had clearly been picked by a certain brunet. Larry's handwriting was just barely legible, but it was so uniquely his that Travis enjoyed trying to read it.

Travis was eventually able to get the door open, and walked out onto the roof of the school, wrapping his arms around himself as the cold wind assaulted him and his senses. He walked over to the greenhouse, where he assumed Larry was because he couldn't see him anywhere else. He hoped it be warmer in there, if he wasn't about to die, anyways.

The door was cracked open a bit, and the smell of cannabis immediately filled Travis' nose. Why he did this, he wasn't sure, but Travis knocked on the door. He knocked on the fucking door for fucks sake he hoped Larry would throw him off the fucking roof. Larry opened the door further with a cocked brow and a smirk, and Travis hoped that the blush on his cheeks passed as a natural tint from the cold air.

Larry ushered him into the greenhouse, where, thank God, it was much warmer. The two stood there awkwardly for what had to have been a few minutes before Travis broke the silence.

"What did you want to talk about?" He asked, looking up at the taller boy.

Larry walked closer to him, took his face into his hands and crashed his lips against Travis'.

Travis' eyes went wide, but he closed them and tried to enjoy the moment. Larry's kiss felt so much better than any he had ever experienced before. It felt so right in the worst way. He wanted to cry. He wanted to cry because it made him so happy and validated the way he had been feeling. He wanted to cry because it made him happy and it shouldn't have. He knew that it wasn't right, that it was a sin, but it felt so right. Heavenly, even.

Larry pulled away from Travis and gave him his space.

"W-where did that c-come from?" Travis asked, cursing at himself in his head for stuttering.

"I read your note and it was the cutest, most lovey dovey stupid shit ever and I loved and hated it. Ever since I haven't been able to get your punk ass off my mind and I don't know what that means but I wanna figure it out with you. If you want to, too."

Travis couldn't believe his ears. Larry Johnson,  _ liked him _ ?

"I'm not fucking with you, if that's what you're thinking right now. I'm serious about this." Larry said, shaking Travis out of his thoughts.

"O-okay."

"Okay, what? Do you want to try this out?"

Travis felt like he was messing with him, and that Larry hated him, and that he was trying to get him to get his ass beat.

"Yeah." Travis avoided eye contact as Larry stepped closer again.

"Do you wanna kiss again?" Larry asked, rubbing his thumb across Travis' cheek.

He nodded, "S-sure."

Larry placed his hands on both sides of Travis' face and pulled him in for another, more coordinated, kiss. It was even better than the first time. Eventually Larry's hands found their way to Travis' waist, and Travis rested his own around the taller boy's neck. Larry's lips were so soft, his hands were so warm, his tongue was in Travis' mouth. He didn't even know how or when it got in there, but he liked it. It scared him that he liked it, but he did.

As the kiss started to get more heated, Travis started to get cold feet, so cold that not even Larry could warm him up. He pulled away and looked down, embarrassed.

"I'm sorry, did I go too fast?" Larry asked, placing one of his hands back on Travis' face and tilting his head up so he was looking at him. He did this just in time to see the tears fill his eyes.

"No. I'm just... scared."

"Why?" Larry was completely baffled by the sudden change in Travis' attitude and body language, he looked like he wanted to curl in on himself and make himself as small as possible.

"M-my dad. He's gonna kill me. He can t-tell whenever I do anything that I'm not supposed to. He's gonna k-kill me when I get home!" Larry pulled the blond to his chest, rubbing his back as he cried into him.

"No, he won't."

"Yes, he will, Larry! You don't understa--"

"I won't let him." He asserted, holding onto the smaller boy tightly. "I won't let him."

Travis cried even harder. He couldn't remember the last time anyone had even pretended to care about him that much. He clutched at the back of Larry's red hoodie, grabbing hold of fistfuls of it as he sobbed uncontrollably. They stayed like that for a while. Larry soothed him. He cried more. It was a cycle.

Travis finally calmed down just in time for him to get on the bus and go home. As much as Larry didn't want him to go home, he was adamant that he had to, if his father didn't see him come home that night, things were going to be a thousand times worse for him when he did. So, he went home, and somehow his father couldn't tell that anything was off.

Things were okay for a while. Something beautiful flourished between Larry and Travis. Travis' father managed to leave him alone for a bit. Things were good for those few weeks, they really were. But all good things have to come to an end, right? Too much of a good thing is bad, isn't it? 

When Travis walked into school with a turtleneck on, for the first time in his entire life, Larry knew something was up. He found him in the bathroom crying during lunch.

He knocked on the stall door, "Travis, it's me."

"Go away."

"Travis, please open the door." He heard him sniffle and a very puffy-faced Travis opened the door. Tears stained his tan skin.

Larry slowly pushed down his turtleneck, revealing two large bruises in the shape of hands, it appeared as though he had been strangled. "Travis, what happened?!"

He whimpered, "I don't even know. He just came at me. He was already angry. I didn't think that I'd even done anything. He just wants me dead."

Larry pulled him to his chest, being mindful of his ribs which also seemed to be sensitive. He slid his fingers into his blond hair and kissed the top of his head. "You're not going home today."

"Larry--"

"I told you I'd protect you and I couldn't. I'm not going to fall through on that promise again. I'm not going to lose you to that stupid bastard. I love you, Travis, you mean the world to me. I can't lose you." Travis found himself in the same situation that he had the last time, clutching at Larry's shirt and crying.

"I-I love you t-too." Larry picked him up and they left. He carried him to his car, and drove to the apartments.

They held hands as they made their way to Larry's room, Lisa wasn't home so it was easier for Travis to handle.

Larry gave Travis some of his clothes to wear, and the two of them laid down to take a nap. Larry was careful of Travis' ribs as he snuggled him, pulling him closer and hoping that he'd provide some sort of comfort to the boy. He would never understand how much comfort he provided for Travis in that moment. Travis felt so safe with him. So loved.

Travis soon fell asleep, but Larry stayed awake, and started to form a plan.

Lisa Johnson was a very understanding woman, so when Larry bombarded her with Travis' life story the second she walked in the door, she listened to him instead of yelling at him to let her relax for a minute first. She happily agreed to let the boy stay with them, and gave Larry the 'at least not will I'm home please' talk, which made him go redder than a tomato. Travis cried again when Larry told him the news after he woke up, he must've thanked him a thousand times.

At first, it was very weird for Travis. He didn't have to be scared all the time, he didn't have to walk on eggshells anymore, he didn't have to hold in his emotions -- he could just be himself, in his natural state with Larry and Lisa.

Surprisingly, his father never came looking for him. Never tried to pick him up from school. Never tried to make him come back. Nothing. Which was a welcome occurrence, indeed, but felt as though it was the calm before the storm. It both put Travis at ease and made him anxious at the same time. He was glad, that for the moment, at least, his father was gone. But he was terrified of the day in which he returned. Regardless, he tried to not let his anxieties keep him from living in the moment, the beautiful, beautiful moments that they were.

It took time, but Sal and everyone else slowly began to accept Travis into their little group. Again, it was weird at first because Travis hadn't been allowed to have friends before. But, he welcomed the idea.

Larry, very quickly, became very protective of the blond. He was also constantly on edge, and waiting for the day that the real demon of Nockfell, Mr. Phelps, decided to show his ugly face again. Though he kept his own thoughts and anxieties about the situation from Travis, he didn't want to freak him out anymore that he already was. Larry wanted to protect Travis from everything, even himself.

There were many times when Travis kept things from Larry as well, out of habit. He often wouldn't tell the brunet about his emotions until they were boiling over and he was on the verge of a breakdown. A breakdown that he would also try to hide from Larry. Usually, Larry was lead to believe everything was fine until Travis needed him to hold him while he cried for an hour or more at a time. He didn't mind doing so, he wanted to support his boyfriend in every way possible. But, he wished that Travis felt like he could share those things with him before it got to that point.

It was weird for Travis to be able to have fun with Larry and his friends. He wasn't used to anything that was actually, objectively fun. His fun while in his parents' care was often bible study or other church activities. Which were not actually fun. At all. To be able to go to the lake, and swim and have fun with  _ friends _ , not just people your father wanted you to hang out with was amazing.

It may have taken seven-fucking-teen years but Travis was finally able to act his age. To interact with others in the way his peers would. He finally got to talk shit and be an annoying teenager when he went out in public. He didn't have to wear a stupid fucking sweater everyday anymore.

He could just be himself. He could wear what he wanted to wear. He could hang out with who he wanted to hang out with. He could love who he wanted to love. He could be happy. For the first time in a long time, he was free to be happy. Being happy was almost hard for Travis, the years upon years of trauma made it hard for him to let himself be happy. He was always waiting for something terrible to happen; for him to fuck up so bad Larry or Lisa would send him 'home', for him to make one of the two of them so mad they hit him, for him to do something, anything to ruin his second chance.

All Travis had wanted for so long was to be happy, and now that he had the chance to be happy, he almost couldn't let himself be happy. This was another one of those things that he kept from Larry until it was actually eating him alive and he was ready to jump off of the roof of the apartments. He didn't want to burden Larry with anything else.

But, it scared Larry more than anything to be able to see the pain in his boyfriend's eyes, and not know why it was there, why he was hurting, and why he wouldn't tell him. It destroyed him. He just wanted Travis to let him in, he needed him to trust him. All he wanted to do was help him.

Over time, Travis started to let his guard down, and break down some of the protective barriers that he had built up around himself. It was hard, but he wanted to be happy. It was hard, but he wanted to love. It was hard, but he wanted to be loved. He slowly let Larry in, still cautious, but trying desperately to learn to trust him. Travis knew that Larry loved him, and that made it a little bit easier.

Larry loved Travis so much that he put him first in everything -- in every part of his life, Travis came first.

Soon, just living in Nockfell started to eat away at Larry and Travis' souls. They couldn't take it anymore, they had to leave. A couple months into Junior year, they dropped out of high school and went ahead and got their GEDs. They both had picked up jobs some time before, and had plenty of money to get out of that hellish town. Lisa was very understanding, and helped the two in every way that she could.

Larry and Travis rented an apartment together in the city, and it was wonderful. They didn't care about the noise or the traffic or the shit air quality -- they were away from Nockfell and that's all that mattered. To be away from that hellhole was a physical manifestation of their love for each other. They found that they both appreciated the physically intimate side of a relationship as well.

Travis was shy and self conscious at first, worried that Larry would find him unattractive and not want to be with him anymore. Larry was so perfect to him, he feared that Larry wouldn't feel the same about him. He wasn't perfect and he knew that, but he desired the validation it would give him if Larry felt that way about him, if Larry told him that. But Travis was more than perfect to Larry, he was more than perfect for Larry, he was his everything.

Their first time together was on the shorter side, as their bodies had to get used to one another. It was a little awkward and felt kinda weird, it didn't really hurt but it was uncomfortable at first. And to be completely honest, Travis was glad that things ended a little quickly the first few times. They were still in school and living at the apartments at the time, so the timing was always awkward and anxiety inducing. Travis also knew that if Larry would have lasted a whole lot longer inside of him those first few times, he would've been laid up for a week. Larry was  _ packing _ .

After they moved out, intimacy was easier for them. And it was much more enjoyable when they didn't have to worry about parents or demons catching them in the act.

Every part of Travis' body that Larry touched burned like hellfire. When his fingertips would trace his hip bones, it felt as though it left a trail of burning trees in its wake. Every part of Larry was hot to the touch. When his thighs were pressed against the backs of Travis', they were hot. When his hands wrapped around his waist, they burned. His kisses stung the sensitive skin on his neck. And Travis loved it. It reminded him that he was alive.

When Larry's fingertips wandered across his body, it felt as though he was the earth and Larry's hand was the pickaxe that revealed the burning lava underneath. Larry both ignited him and brought the fire out of him. No matter how cold he felt, Larry warmed him immediately.

Larry made every part of him burn in the best way. The slight burn that it took for his body to accommodate his size. The burn of his fingernails digging into his skin when they got rough with each other. The smallest burning sensation when Larry's saliva would leak out of Travis' mouth after a sloppy kiss. His hickeys burned. His bites burned. His kisses burned. His tongue burned. His most gentle touches burned. His rougher touches burned the same.

With or without a condom, Larry burned Travis' insides in the best way. The heat from his body being pushed in and pulled out of him, even when he was going as slow as possible, it burned. Even when he was as gentle as possible, it burned.

When Larry's sweat from the heat of the moment made contact with Travis' skin, it burned. As it slid down his thighs, or across his stomach, it left a trail of burning flames. Even the most basic and balanced parts of Larry burned Travis like acid. And it felt so fucking good.

To have Larry on top of him, rocking his body and the bed like the rock star he always wanted to be was heavenly. It was a sin. Premarital sex was a sin. Being gay was a sin. Having gay sex was a sin. But it felt like heaven. The music that played in the background some would argue was 'satanic', but it felt like heaven. His body burned with flames the strength of hellfire, but it felt like heaven.

There were times, when it was all said and done, that Travis was left with what felt like a small tealight candle sitting inside of him, threatening to burn him alive from the inside out. Those were some of his favorite times.

Every part of Larry's body that Travis touched burned like the coldest winter day. It burned like ice in overheated hands. Travis was so cold that he burned Larry. When his fingertips traced his happy trail and V-lines, goosebumps spread across his body like a wildfire. Larry often shivered under his touch.

Every part of Travis was cold. When his thighs straddled Larry's hips, he felt as though he was going to freeze him. When he held onto Larry's arms, the blood in his prominent veins ran cold. His kisses were so cold on the overheated skin of his neck that they burned. His hickeys felt like sticking your hand directly into snow.

When his fingernails dug into Larry's shoulder blades, they froze him. If Travis drew blood, it did not come out feeling warm, it was as cold as him. When Travis' fingers found their way into the lion's mane that Larry called his hair, they were so cold he could swear he felt his hair freeze to his head.

When Travis was on top of Larry, and his sweat from the heat of the moment fell and hit his skin, it felt like rain on a day that was just warm enough not to snow. As it ran down Larry's chest, stomach, or arms, it felt like a river he didn't know he had on his skin was freezing over. When Travis would lean down and kiss Larry as he rode him, and his spit would end up outside of Larry's mouth, it felt like it would freeze there. It felt like it would turn to ice right there on his face.

Every part of Travis was cold, even inside of him was cold. His mouth often felt like Larry's length was submerged in ice water. He wondered how he could even cum inside of his mouth without it freezing. It felt as though when Larry pulled himself out of Travis' mouth, there should've been icicles hanging off of his length. When Larry was all the way inside of his lover, he wondered how he stayed hard within him, he was so cold. His skin was cold. His entrance was cold. His insides were cold. His prostate was cold.

Once in a blue moon, Larry would be reminded just how much of Travis was cold, when after it was all said and done, and Larry was left feeling like he had a frozen lake inside of him. Those times were few and far between, because if they weren't, Larry might've just melted Travis completely.

Larry was a Californian wildfire, and Travis was the Alaskan permafrost. Larry was the hottest day in the desert, and Travis its coldest night. Travis cooled Larry's fire. He could never put him out, but he could extinguish fifty percent or more at a time.

But, there were times when Larry was on top of Travis, and not even he could cool him. When Larry would look down at all the scared and misshapen areas of Travis' body his blood boiled with rage. The first few times they were together, and a few bruises still lingered, there was not a person alive, a pill strong enough, a fire extinguisher with enough power to simmer him down.

Larry never took that anger out on Travis in those moments, quite the contrary, actually. In those moments, if they had been fucking, they were now having sex; if they had been having sex, they were now making love; if they had been making love, it became so slow and steady, soft and gentle, that Travis felt like they were entering another universe it put him up so high.

The first few times it happened, Travis got scared, because they had been getting rough with each other and then it stopped. Completely. And suddenly Larry was going slow, his grip on his hips loosened, his kisses softened, and he completely left any kind of overly dominant position. Travis thought he broke him for a second. It often confused Travis, especially if they had just been fucking, and suddenly love was being put into it. He always enjoyed it, but it always caught him off guard.

It truly honored him that even after years of being together, Larry's fire still burned just for him on his behalf.

Oh and how that fire burned. There was not a thing in the world that could come between Larry and Travis. There was not a thing in the world that Larry wouldn't do for Travis. Larry's entire world was encompassed in Travis, revolved around Travis, Travis was his entire everything, and he'd burn everyone else's worlds to the ground to prove it to him.

Larry loved Travis wholly, unconditionally, and with unwavering affection.

Travis and Larry both had the day off, it was a quiet Saturday afternoon, even in the city it was quiet. They had had a long night of shown love and physical intimacy that now left them tired and worn out. Travis rolled over on top on Larry in the bed, even though there was plenty on space for him to not do that, Larry didn't mind.

Travis let out a small, tired chuckle, "I need a bath."

"I'm not trying to be rude, but you are absolutely correct." Larry chuckled as he smoked his cigarette and ran his fingers through Travis' greasy black hair. Who knew it had been bleached all those years? The black suited him much more, his green eyes and tan skin paired with it well.

"Will you give me a bath?" Travis asked in a tired tone that he knew Larry could not refuse.

Larry put his cigarette out in his ashtray and followed Travis into the bathroom, running him a nice, hot bath to warm his body and soothe his muscles. He picked him up and placed him in the bath, the smaller man immediately relaxing into the water. Larry left Travis to enjoy himself for a while as he stripped the bed; changing the sheets, pillow cases, and quilt to fresh, clean alternatives. He also cleaned up any other messes from the night before, dirty clothes, empty condom wrappers, the like.

Larry walked back into the bathroom to see a very relaxed Travis soaking in what had become a bubble bath in his absence. His eyes half lidded, arms stretched out on the rim of the tub, a sleepy smile on his face.

"Can I trust you not to fall asleep while I take a shower?" Larry asked, looking down at Travis, who lazily nodded.

"Yes." Larry chuckled and kissed him before stripping off his own clothes and slipping into a piping hot shower.

He didn't take a long shower, but he didn't take a short one either. He scrubbed his body clean of any residues that remained from the night before, finally starting to wake up a bit. He made sure his long brown hair was amply washed and conditioned, taking the opportunity to use Travis' fancy conditioner because he couldn't stop him from the bathtub. It just smelled so good he couldn't help himself.

After Larry got out of the shower and dried himself off, he made sure to put lotion on his tattoos as well. Again, he used Travis' fancy expensive stuff that said it did things he didn't understand because it soothed his now nearly burnt skin.

"I know you're using my lotion." Larry stayed silent, mostly because he wanted to see what Travis was going to do or say, but also because he didn't know what to say.

"Do you understand why it's expensive now?"

"Yes." Larry snickered as he continued to use it.

"If you use all of it, you're going out to buy more." Travis could always tell when he was doing something that he probably wasn't supposed to be.

"Fine." Larry put the lotion down and pulled his boxer shorts on, he did not want to go anywhere today.

He put his dirty clothes in the laundry basket, and grabbed Travis' shampoo and conditioner out of the shower. Larry walked over to the bathtub and sat down on the stool next to it, this had become a regular occurrence. "Are you gonna wash my hair?"

"Yes, cutie." Travis smiled as Larry ran the shampoo through his shoulder length hair, the previously straightened curls returning.

"I love your hair like this." Larry said as he essentially gave Travis a scalp massage, watching him nearly melt into the bathwater.

"Me too." Travis closed his eyes as Larry poured water over his head to wash out the shampoo before applying the conditioner.

Travis all but purred as Larry also massaged the conditioner into his scalp, a big grin on his face. "You're so good to me."

"I try."

"You do a good job." Larry leaned over the side of the bathtub and kissed Travis' temple, making him shiver. "You're always so warm."

"You're always such a cutie." Larry poured more water over Travis' head, washing the conditioner out of his hair. "Let's get you out of here before you fall asleep in the bath."

Larry pulled the plug out of the drain, walking back into their shared bedroom to grab some clothes for Travis to put on. He returned to the bathroom and pulled Travis out of the bath, as he had apparently decided that he was going to have Larry completely spoil him today. Larry helped dry him off and get dressed as well, ultimately ending up carrying him into their room and laying him down on the bed.

Larry joined him in the bed, laying down next to him, just to have Travis roll over on top of him again.

"If you're always going to lay on top of me, maybe we should get a twin bed instead of this giant ass California king. It'd free up a lot of space."

Travis whined as he moved around awkwardly in the bed. He kept his head on Larry's chest, but spread his legs out away from him, taking up much of the bed. "Oh, in that case we definitely need this humongous bed." Larry laughed as Travis pouted at him.

Travis sat up, having to again maneuver awkwardly in the bed because of his previous antics. "I'm hungry."

"Me too. Let's go see what we have." Larry got up and a tired Travis reluctantly followed him into the kitchen.

It still amazed him that they were able to afford such a nice place. Larry's artistic talents earned them a life of near luxury, having become a now world renowned tattoo artist, he could buy just about anything. Travis' passion for music stemming from his time in the church choir only further added to their bank account balance. It was nice not to have to worry about money anymore. It was even nicer to be able to give back to the friends and family who had helped them along the way.

"Do you have an idea of what you want?" Larry asked, looking at Travis who had decided to sit on the kitchen counter.

"You to cook." Larry chuckled as he turned back to the fridge, "I always cook."

"If I cooked we'd get salmonella."

"Trust me, babe, I know." Travis laughed and playfully slapped Larry on the shoulder.

As per usual, Larry cooked an amazing meal which they ate as they watched TV. They leaned back on couch, feeling like they might just fall asleep again.

"We should go back down to Nockfell soon, I miss all those assholes, and mom." Larry said, breaking the silence.

"Yeah, it'll be so surreal going back, now. But, I'd love to go see everyone again, especially Lisa."

"She always asks about you when I call her. We talk more about you than about either of us." Travis scooted closer to Larry and cuddled up to him, sniffling.

"Aw, babe." Larry ran his fingers through soft black curls as Travis softly cried, after all this time, he still wasn't used to being loved to such a degree. "Happy tears," Travis whispered, "happy tears."

Larry kissed the top of Travis' head as he started to pull himself back together, "Te amo cariño. (I love you baby.)"

"Yo también te quiero. (I love you too.)"

"That was good!" Larry smiled down at Travis who just laughed into his chest.

Eventually, they gave into their bodies, and got back into bed, Larry spooning Travis.

"Larry?"

"Yeah?"

"When you say that you'd do anything for me, do you really mean it?"

"Of course."

" _ Anything _ ?" Travis asked, tracing the veins in Larry's arm.

" _ Anything _ . Anything for you." Larry pulled Travis closer and kissed the back of his head, "Absolutely anything."

That conversation is what brought them back to Nockfell in the dead of night, dressed in all black, standing in front on the centuries old Phelps Ministry, with gas cans in hand. Travis looked at Larry, and Larry looked back at him, they nodded at each other and ran. They went in different directions, dowsing the perimeter of the property with gasoline. They ran further into the property, spreading the gas everywhere. Their legs would have given out by this point if not for the adrenaline and the fact they were probably getting high off the gasoline.

Larry stayed outside as a look out as Travis threw more gasoline inside of the church itself. Dowsing every book, every bible, every church pew, every tapestry, the podium, the paintings, every single fucking thing. For his final act of defiance, he took out his can of blood red spray paint, and over the stained glass window that his father adored, wrote 'FAGS HATE GOD' over Jesus' face.

Then they bolted. They didn't ignite it just yet, what's a show without an audience?

When the next morning, Sunday morning, finally rolled around, Travis and Larry were lying in wait as the members of the church refused to walk onto the property because of the smell. They watched as Mr. Phelps walked into the church, and they listened as he screamed out in agony over the sight of Travis' oh-so-beautiful artwork. He ran out screaming like the demon he was, and everyone ran off the property with him.

Larry and Travis, still dressed in all black, every defining feature they had masked, made their way back onto the property. Larry stood on one edge of the property, and used Jim's old lighter to ignite that half of it. They could both hear the screams of the church goers from the street below. Travis took a match out of his pocket, lit the Molotov cocktail in his hand and threw it with all his might at the church that caused him so much pain. He ran in the other direction, as to not explode himself as well. Travis turned around just in time to watch as the cocktail make impact with the church, blowing it to smithereens.

Again, they both ran, but not before snapping a few glorious pictures of the scene. The cops showed up, but Travis and Larry were already long gone. And when the news helicopter flew over the scene, the words 'FAGS HATE GOD' that had been burned into the grounds of the property multiple times, were on full display.

The Phelps family church, their entire history and livelihood, had been destroyed by the lone heir to the horrendous thrown. By Marshall Phelps' lone son, the boy that was once his pride and joy, the church was burned. The Phelps' family home wasn't in much better shape, but that was yet to be discovered.

After the crowds cleared, Travis and Larry couldn't resist the urge to go take one last picture in front on the still burning church. And Larry pulled the best stunt he ever had the entire time they had been together.

The brunet got down on one knee, in front of Travis, in front of the burning church, and asked the most trivial question, "Travis Phelps, will you do me the honor of wearing this ring and saying that we're married, but not signing any paperwork because it's fucking stupid?"

"Of course!"

Sal, Todd, Neil, Ash, Lisa and a couple others received a very interesting card in the mail in the following weeks. It read: "We're engaged now! If we don't get arrested, you're invited to the wedding!" The words were written on top of a picture of Larry and Travis kissing in front of the still burning remains of the Phelps Ministry. 

They never ended up getting arrested. Maybe God felt bad for them. Legend says that Mr. Phelps can still be heard screaming about Jesus' face having 'FAGS HATE GOD' written on it. _Tragic_.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> r/supernovarevenge anyone?


End file.
